The No Good, Most Terrible Day of My Life!
by Eclipsa
Summary: The Story of a Reluctant & Sarcastic Cinderella. *Rewrite*
1. My Life

The No Good, Very Bad, Absolutely Horrible, Most Terrible Day of My Life!

~The Story of a Reluctant & Sarcastic Cinderella

Chapter One: My Life

So, normally, I like my life. I have a loving father, cankerous stepmother and three annoying stepsisters. My dear stepmother is quite determined to turn me into a 'Lady,' but my father allows me to do as I wish. And I most adamantly do NOT wish to become a 'Lady.' So I pretty much get the run of the mansion and at times, can go for hours without a glimpse of my adoring step family.

As often as I can (which is almost every day) I like to go on my own private adventures. Often times, just getting away from dear step mama is one. But normally my adventures involve ride my horse, Midnight's Call, and exploring the estate, forest and village.

Speaking of the village! Ha! I frequently join our dear Cook, Mrs. Benson on her forays into the village for buy food. I like to make a game of it and Mrs. Benson is such a dear and indulges me in my fancy, by going along with it. When I go with her to the village, she often introduces me as a maid or her niece from so-and-so place from the other side of the country. It makes me laugh, because none of the people seem to realize that it is the same person each week. At times, I do go as myself, the daughter of the Lord on the hill, but when I go, I insist they call me 'Miss,' and not 'Lady' for to call me 'Lady' is a lie, because I am no Lady.

I also love to visit the village incognito because I love the peasant style of dress, much simpler, like me. I do not like to be weighed down by those huge billowing pieces of cloth that they call skirts, and I like to breathe, thus I am not an admirer of the cruel contraption called the corset.

When I am forced to stay home for the day, which I loathe, I must sit up straight, sip slowly and quietly, read poetry or embroider all day long. Such Torture! Sadly, I am not one for sitting still long, consequently I start to twitch or incessantly tap my feet. After a time, my twitching and tapping starts to bother my stepmother's delicate nerves. If I continue such behavior after admonishment from her, I am sent out of the room, away from the presence in disgrace, with a punishment of working in the garden for the rest of the day.

And even though she has been my stepmother for the past nine years, it still hasn't gotten through her head yet that working the in garden is no punishment for me, I enjoy it. I get to wear comfortable clothing, go outside (away from her and her darlings), get dirty and turn something ugly into beautiful. Though I must say that weeding does get quite tedious after a time, but I would much rather weed the garden all day than sit in her exalted presence for one hour.

I actually don't hate my stepmother. I am annoyed by her, more or less. She doesn't understand my sarcasm and takes everything way too literally. I don't know how she gets by with my father, I learned sarcasm from him. Though, I will admit, she does make me laugh quite a bit. If I am in her presence for too long, I often burst into laughter, which must be hidden behind tears. At which point my stepsisters gather around me, to offer comfort, which only forces me to cry more in effort to cover the laughter, because their attempts at comfort are truly pathetic. They coo and caw, pat my head and hands, and dance around me. I suppose they mean well, but most of the time their behavior reminds me of chickens. They talk nonsense, all the time. I think they talk so much because they like to hear the sound of their own voice resounding and echoing throughout the whole mansion.

I have no clue as to why my father married the annoying bird, but he seems to like her well enough, his sarcasm certainly keeps him entertained, though he does wince and grimace when she starts fluttering around the room over an invitation to so-and-so's ball or gala.

A few weeks ago, my father left home for the capital on business with the King. Let me tell you, it has been absolutely miserable here without him. Even though I now partially blame him for the horrors that have befallen me the past few days.

About a week ago my stepmother received a letter from father, asking us all to join him in the capital for a ball in honor of the Prince's Twenty-First Birthday. My father is coward for sending the invitation by courier and not coming home himself. He could have at least given me a warning or heads up to be away from the mansion that day, for I have never seen my stepmother in such throes of excitement before. I swear the woman was having seizures, all her fluttering about and her high pitched squeals, the sisters weren't much better either. I thought the mansion was going to come down from all the screams that emitted from their mouths. I am surprised that none of the windows or crystal glasses were broken. My ears are still ringing.

Again, my father is a coward, because for the last week I have to been subjected to the horrors of 'Lady Life' and if he had been here, he would have gotten an ear full from me about his cruelty. Dress fittings, embroidery, hairstyling, etiquette lessons and nail trimmings have filled up my days since that horrendous letter arrived. Try as I might, I rarely escaped stepmother's clutches, no matter how annoying or insistent my tapping was, for she couldn't hear it above all the twittering of the Steps. I'm surprised that I am not yet deaf, for the Steps have not stopped chattering about the Prince and his amazingness and how glorious this ball will be.

Whoop deee dooo…. I don't want to go to the ball, but by order of my father, I am to attend. And because of his cruel orders, all day yesterday I was forced to suffer through a journey to my father's smaller estate closer to the Palace with the stepfamily. Oh the torture! I longed to throw myself out of the carriage and run far, far away, where I would then embark upon many amazing adventures and never have to go to the ball. While the Steps nattered away at my ears about the ball and their gowns, I stared out the window and daydreamed about all the wonderful adventures I could be having. I thought of many escape scenarios that sadly were not at all realistic. Though my favorite was being attacked and kidnapped by bandits... Not only would that get me out of the carriage, but it would 'force' me to miss the ball! (boohoo) I have to admit, the hysterics I imagined for the steps at this scenario were pretty hilarious.

The very next morning began the No Good, Very Bad, Absolutely Horrible, Most Terrible Day of My Life! First, my father betrayed me and detained me from running away early in the morning! I couldn't believe it! Because of his betrayal, I was forced to sit in a chair all day and get all 'prettied up' and turned into a 'Lady.' As if I haven't been tortured enough the past couple of days, but today was the worst of all.

First, I was forced into a bath, which I don't mind, as long as other people are not around but no… There were not one, but two maids 'helping me.' One was scrubbing me, which was not only embarrassing, but painful as well, while the other maid was pulling my hair out. According to her, she was 'washing it,' but it felt more like she was yanking and trying to rip all my hair from my scalp. I complained bitterly and threatened them the whole time, but they ignored me, having obviously been warned not to listen to my threats by my former favorite parent and stepmother.

Next, they forced me into the first layer of the 'greatest waste of money ever spent' aka my gown. This first layer consisted of the petticoat with the corset over top of it, which they pulled horribly tight, even though they did not need to. I'm slender and have not chest. And no matter how much they pull those ties in the back, I am not going to get any bigger in the chest area, thank you very much. The maids again blatantly ignored me; they evidently feared my stepmother's threats than mine. They then pulled, yanked, curled and twisted my hair into a horribly painful arrangement atop my head, which made my sore scalp even sorer. I wanted to cry and almost started to, (I will admit a few tears leaked out on several vicious yanks of my hair), when the maids forbid that as well, for they started painting my face with stuff. I have seen such concoctions on the Step's faces and never wanted them on mine! But yet again, no surprise, they tisked away my arguments.

The tisking maids continued to tisk some more when they saw the condition of my nails. Somehow I messed them up from the earlier beauty treatments this week, but really, there is only a chip or two in most of them. What did they expect after days of insistent tapping? They proceeded to not only cut, shape and mourn over how short they now were, but to apply polish as well! What in the world on they putting on my body! Don't I have any say in this? Evidently, the answer is no.

I wanted to desperately run away! I now wished that I really had been kidnapped by bandits. I was willing to get up, as I was, half clothed and sprint from my room, which currently was my prison from hell. But sadly, I am not one for sprinting in petticoats and corsets. I will run in peasant dresses, but with a corset on, I would not have enough room to breathe properly. I would most likely pass out before I made it out of the house. Though, now that I think about it, if I passed out, I wouldn't have to go to this wretched ball! There may be some merit to this plan after all.

But throughout the morning and through the afternoon, my dearest step mama fluttered in and out of my room *cough*prison*cough* in between her own beauty treatments, checking on my progress. Each time she entered she gushed about her little angels, how wonderful they were and how beautiful they looked. Gag me! Please? She would then compliment me, not on how beautiful I looked, but on what a wonderful job the maids were doing. And how much prettier I will be when they were finished. What am I? Just a canvas? Evidently. And of course I could never compare to her little angels. Oh No… Never… 'Well,' I thought, 'why would I ever want to be compared to them? '

..

So, please let me know what you think! Please?

I took all my stories down a while ago, but this story wants to be finished. So this is the only story (so far) that I am rewriting and finishing. (hopefully)

Thanks!

-Eclipsa


	2. Dinner Partner

The No Good, Very Bad, Absolutely Horrible, Most Terrible Day of My Life!

~The Story of a Reluctant & Often Sarcastic Cinderella.

Chapter Two: Dinner Partner

By the time I was forced into my huge waste of money gown, I was starving! I ate a small breakfast early this morning and had hoped to run to the stables afterwards, but my traitorous father was awake and caught me before I had a chance to escape. And I have not eaten anything since! When my former favorite parent came around after I was finished, I complained and pleaded for something to eat. To which he replied, "You will eat at the banquet." BANQUET? I had to eat among these people? Not only did I have to waste an entire evening in their presence, but now I had to eat with other noble, people just like my annoying stepfamily? A bunch of gaggling geese? The Horror! And I probably wouldn't even get real food! I'm sure that food will taste great, but the portions will be itsy bitsy, which means little to no actual food. Conclusion, I'm going to starve tonight!

And then my traitor of a father decided to drop another wonderful surprise on my. I was to be announced. ANNOUNCED! Are you kidding me? I was going to be forced to walk down a huge, long, carpeted staircase, while my name was called. During which every eye in the room would be watching me as I tripped and tumbled my way down the staircase. Oh what joy will be mine, I just can't wait!

I may not like these people, but that doesn't mean that I am willing to embarrass myself in front of all of them. I do have some pride, thank you.

Immediately after dear old pa told this fabulous news, I sat down to have a chat with him, after dismissing those ever faithful maids and discussed (argued) the benefits of announcing on my behavior for the evening. After a ridiculously long time in discussion (war) we came to an agreement (treaty). I would not have to be announced as long as I behaved like a 'Lady' for the whole evening and night ( a stipulation my father put in at the end, knowing that I would do something once the 'evening' was over and it was actually night). Darn him! But I agreed and he agreed. He got good 'Lady-like' behavior out of me for the whole ball and I did not have to be paraded in front of the atrocious gaggle of geese. I did not see the treaty as entirely fair, I only got out of being announced, not the whole ball, but it worked. I could act 'like' a Lady for the evening (and night). Pretending to be one did not make me one. I loathed being shown off like some prize horse on the market and was glad to avoid that endeavor.

When dear step mama found out about our agreement, she threw a royal fit. It was a huge laugh to watch! She threw her fan on the floor and stomped repeatedly on it, all the while raging at my father, who calmly told her that if she wanted me to act like a lady, this was how it was going to be. I wanted to make a comment about her current ladylike behavior, but refrained when father gave me a look, it seems that he wanted to do the same, but he knew better.

So, I was successfully about to evade that potential disaster on this no good, very bad, absolutely horrible, most terrible day of my life. I know that there would be other challenges to come. All because of my dear step mama, who told many of her 'society' friends what a country bumpkin I was and she wanted to turn me into a 'Lady' to prove to them how much she knows about decorum, fashion and other such nonsense. I don't know how turning me into a lady would do that, but I could at least show them tonight that I wasn't a total country bumpkin, though I really truly wanted to act like the country bumpkin, just to prove her wrong… hehe… but I will not go back on the treaty that I have with father. I will not give him any reason to make me walk down that staircase. So I am forced to spend the entire evening among 'good society' and act like a lady. Oh joy, I can't wait…. Not.

As of right now, I am sitting comfortably among the beautiful Palace gardens at sunset. I comment the Palace gardeners for their fine work. They certainly have made this garden a little haven from the chaos of the ballroom. Sadly, my little corner has already been interrupted on numerous occasions this evening (I have not yet been here an hour), by lovesick couples. Yuck! Luckily, the banquet is 'soon to commence' according to the servant who announced such wonderful news out to the gardens a few moments ago. And soon the lovesick couples will be sitting next to each other, eating and making eyes at one another, but hopefully not around me.

Uh oh… Here comes Father.

"Hello Father, how has your evening been thus far?" I really wanted to tell him that I was leaving, taking the carriage and never coming back, but there were people around and I was not going to break our treaty.

"Fine, fine. It's time for the banquet dear." At that he offered his arm to me, which I reluctantly took. Luckily, just because I had to be 'lady-like' didn't mean that I couldn't argue with him, I only had to argue in a 'lady-like' fashion.

"From what I understand, dear Father, the banquet was 'soon to commence,' not at this very moment."

"Well, my lovely daughter, I am making sure that you find your place and that you are not lost in the gardens during the banquet. Estella would be heartbroken if she heard you had missed the meal." Oh… he was good, well he was the one who taught me to be sarcastic. Estella, aka step mama, would be furious enough to kill me if I missed the meal, for it would be noticed by my dinner partner, whom I dreaded meeting and it would been seen as a mark against her, whom supposedly turned me, the country bumpkin of a stepdaughter, into a 'Lady.'

"Father, do you by any chance know who is going to be my dinner partner?" I asked sweetly.

"You will see soon dear," I groaned quietly to myself, while he chuckled at my expense, "You might be pleasantly surprised.

Yeah right. I wanted to childishly stick my tongue out at him and pout I already has three options of who that honored man would.

First up, Duke Decrepit. A very sleazy old man who had nine toes in the grave, but was still on the lookout for a young wife. One who would leer at me during the whole meal, while food dripped down his chin, into his beard and onto his clothes… Yuck!

The next contestant was Lord Locks, a man entirely in love with himself and all that he does. One who believes himself to be 'God's perfect gift to women' and expects all women to fall faint at his feet at first smile. During the meal he would give, at great lengths, accounts of his wondrous and heroic deeds. Oh dear… I can only hope that if this is my dinner partner that I may choke on something… though he may add saving me to his list of heroic deeds.

And Last, but certainly not any better than the others, Scholar Stanley. A man who lives, breathes and smells like books. The one plus, I would not need to talk or even hem or haw at his comments, for her would just sit and talk about the books he has read, the ones he has written and the one he is currently writing about ancient hieroglyphs from such & such country across the sea. And to top it all off, if that topic would at all ever be exhausted beyond belief (Dear Lord, please help me if the banquet is ever that long) before the banquet was over, he would gladly move onto politics, to which I would attempt to drown myself in the soup.

Father patted my hand that was on his arm, and brought me from my musing, as we reached my seat, which was denoted by little cards with our names written upon then gold ink, which could only be seen if tilted in the right lighting.

"You will be fine my dear." Father told me as he kissed my cheek and I sat down. He then continued on his way to escort the step family to their assigned seats before I could argue his statement.

FINE? I was not fine! Nor was I going to be Fine! Tonight was going to be the death of me. I was going to either suffocate, because of this wretched corset, starve to death because of the lack of food upon my plate, be annoyed to death by my dinner partner or trip and fall to my death because the shoes I am wearing are Selena's, thus a size too small.

Speaking of step sister number two, snotty Selena, she was seated across and two seats down from me. I couldn't believe my luck on this no good, very bad, absolutely horrible, most terrible day of my life. Now I had my dearest step sister watching my every move, to see what I messed up and to report back to her mother. Oh Joy Upon Joy.

I truly am dreading meeting my dinner partner. I do not want to talk. I just want to eat and then flee to the garden. But… I knew that would not happen, tonight was obviously not my lucky night, for after dinner, the first dance of the evening was danced with your dinner partner. Ugh… I truly am dreading that, especially if my dinner partner turns out to be a Duke Decrepit, because not only would he be disgusting, but he would be all greasy from the food dripping onto him from dinner. Maybe after that tortuous event I will be able to escape to the gardens for the rest of the evening and hide from dear step mama in a secluded corner and take off these miserably tight shoes.

A shadow passed over my head, causing me to freeze, 'my dinner partner,' I thought. But the shadow kept on moving, past my seat and further down, to the head of the table. The other young ladies all around me started whispering and giggling about the man, especially Selena. Whom according to all of them, the man was the Prince. Hmmm… I had never seen the Prince before. I suppose he was handsome enough, but I wasn't willing to believe at a glance that he was 'perfect,' as all the ladies around me pronounced him to be. Handsome, I would agree with, but certainly not perfect. And from what I have heard, (over heard, not gossiping) I knew he had plenty of faults.

Several more shadows passed over my head, but I refused to look up at any of them, fearing it would be my dinner partner. A shadow then lingered over my head and I held my breath. Then it moved to my left and sat down. That breath came out in a big sigh. It was not my dinner partner! The partner is seated to the right of the lady. And though he was not my partner, he still felt the need to soon turn to me and introduce himself to me. Lovely.

"Good Evening, my lady, I'm Duke Dennison." Gah! A Duke Decrepit, Heaven help the poor woman who is his partner for the night, who thankfully is NOT me! Granted, I wouldn't say he had nine toes in the grave, but he was certainly still way too old to be leering at me in such a manner. I smiled as best as I could, which was probably a little more than a grimace and told him my name in return, which he took as an invitation to pick up my hand and place a disgustingly sloppy kiss on the back of my hand. I wanted to wipe my hand on his napkin. If another Duke Decrepit was actually my dinner partner, I was willing to start crying to get out of being seated next to him. He doesn't have to know that I actually do not suffer nervous complaints, but it would get me out of sitting next to a disgusting old leery man. A Lord Locks sounded like a Saint for a dinner partner right now! I certainly would not be able to handle being seated between two Duke Decrepits! Luckily, for my poor hand's sake, Duke Dennison's attention was soon pulled away from me as another shadow passed over me, then moved to my right and sat down.

I forgot to hold my breath.

"Good Evening Lady Elenora."

.oOo.

I am not mean on purpose, I promise. Please tell me what you think! I am very interested to see what you think of my character.

Thank you!

~Eclipsa


End file.
